


He's gone

by Kalicdeception



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, im sorry, this is sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 04:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3714673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalicdeception/pseuds/Kalicdeception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sidewinder, Many things happened there, but what if one thing changed, what if one thing was altered? What would happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Down

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting along with first rvb fanfic, well hope you guys enjoy. Warning for people who cry easily, I am sorry.  
> Also I am not sure weather to make this a oneshot or to continue, so please tell me what you think.

As the Meta was drug across the icecape, he flew past Simmons, reaching his hand out grabbing onto the orange soldier’s foot, dragging him along as they fell off the cliff. Simmon’s eyes widen under his helmet, he yells out to Grif, running after him to the edge of the cliff. 

“Simmons! Grab my hand!” Grif screams, the Meta, giving up and fell on his own. “Help.” He held onto the maroon armored man’s hand tightly, but his hand slowly slipped, he tried to hold tighter, never wanting to let go, the drop was to far, it would kill him if he fell. He can’t die not now, he hasn’t done so many things, so many things that he would never be able to say, to do. HE would never get to tell Simmons… He held on tighter refusing to fall.

Simmons’ arm burnt, he wasn’t nearly strong enough to hold up the chubby hawaiian. “Hold on, hold on! DON”T LET GO!” Simmons was on the ground, almost being pulled off of the cliff with Grif. 

As Grif’s grip began to slip, Sarge ran over, followed by Tucker, but they were too late. The tip of Grif’s finger’s glided past Simmons’ hand, he yelled out, the last word before he fell, as he fell was; “SIMMMMMONS.” The wind surrounded him, all he saw, was white.

“GRIF!” Simmons stood up standing a little too close to the edge. He backed up dropping his gun. “He’s gone….” He looked down at the hands that couldn’t save Grif. 

Sarge was glad that his face was hidden, a hurt look appeared in his eyes, but he kept his tough, hating Grif act up. “Yes, Grif is dead, It’s a sad day. But he died as he lived,” he nodded. “Flat on his belly and trying to get someone else to do his work for him, he will be missed. Until we get a replacement, then forgotten immediately.” Sarge looked down at the snow, he knew none of them would forget Grif. 

Simmons shook his head. “I can’t believe he’s gone.” he clenched his hands, he could have saved him, but like the weakling he is he let Grif fall. 

Tucker looked around awkwardly. “Ya know sometimes when someone falls off a cliff in the movies, he is actually over the edge hanging on a tree or something.” he spoke, trying to lighten the mood, and give Simmons some hope.

Sarge shook his head. “No he is definitely dead.” Something like that wouldn’t happen in real life, Tucker. Sarge though but did not say, because it seemed to emotional. 

Simmons’ eyes light up looking to Sarge. “Maybe we should look just in case.” he spoke slowly timidly.

Sarge waved his hand at Simmons. “I think looking would get our hopes up. Grif wouldn’t like that, Grif would want our expectations to be as low as possible, let's honor him, by not looking.” Sarge nodded. He didn’t want Simmons to get his hopes up, it would already crush him, but a chance Grif might be alive in his mind would hurt him even more in finding out he wasn’t. “Lets have a nice lunch, I’m thinking a sandwich.”

Simmons furrowed his brows together, nearing the edge once again. “You sure? I could just peak right over.” He didn’t want this chance that Grif might be alive to be wasted. 

Sarge grabbed Simmons’ shoulder. “Sounds like a waste of time.”

“Wouldn’t even take a second.” he tried getting closer to the edge, Sarge’s strong grip stopping him. He looked, back at Sarge. “Sarge, please.” 

Tucker piped in. “C’mon Sarge, just a peak wouldn’t hurt.” He insisted, what if Grif really was hanging over the edge, if they didn’t look, he would die. 

Sarge looked at Simmons, then to Tucker, then back to Simmons. His hand lifted from the maroon armor. Simmons looked, his head popping over the edge. He hoped to see Grip dangling, looking up, glad to see Simmons, what he was met with stopped his beating heart. There was a long carved crack into the ice, at the bottom the knife/machine gun, stuck into the ice, Griff no where to be seen. Simmons fell to his knees, Grif had tried to hold on, or what if he did, but he wasted time talking with Sarge. He shook his head. No. This wasn’t happening. No. This had to be a nightmare. No. Grif couldn’t be dead. 

“GRIF?” Simmons yelled. “GRIIF!” He tries again but no answer. He pulls his helmet off, it was muffling his yell. He yelled even louder, his voice echoing through the canyon below. “GRIF! NO! GRIFFF!” He yells, leaning far, almost slipping, Sarge caught him grabbing his arm and pulling him back. Simmons’ eyes were filled with tears. “No! NO!” he reached out to the cliff. “no.” he whispered. “Grif, no, he can’t be gone.” Simmons never thought he would loose Grif, thats why he always joked about killing him. 

Sarge pats Simmons’ head. “I’m sorry Simmons, he’s gone.” Sarge held in his emotions so he could be a rock for Simmons.

“But I love him.” Simmons teared up even more his face landing in his hands as he sobbed. “I love him.” he shook his head. “I never told him, that I loved him.”


	2. Still, Cold

Simmons sat at the base. Thats all he really did since they got back to Valhalla, just sit in the room. Sage was abit worried about the man, he had tried to cheer him up and tried to get him involved. Nothing worked, Simmons had come out of the room all of once in the past month and that was to get more food, mostly half eaten oreos that Grif had opened but never eaten a full package. 

Sarge sat on top of the base, nothing really happened around the canyon, since there was no point in fighting anymore. Also because Washington didn’t want them to be fighting, so they just sat around waiting for something to happen, but nothing ever did. Things were more exciting in Blood Gulch. He sighed walking into the base. It was silent, as always, the only noise was his feet against the floor. sitting at the table he pulls off his helmet, setting it on the table. Taking a deep breath he stood, walking down the dark hallway. 

Sarge tries to open the door, but it was locked, sighing he leans against the door. “Simmons, c’mon let me in.” He sighs out. There was no answer. Sarge knocks, loudly, his knuckles pounding on the door. Still no answer. “Don’t make me come in there the hard way.” After several more moments of silence he backed up, he was about to kick the door down. 

Click. Just before Sarge’s foot hit the door, it swung open, Simmons’ back facing the door as he slugs over the the bunk bed across the room. His body pounded against the bed, he gripped a orange pillow and cuddled up to a fuzzy orange blanket. 

Sarge stared at the room, it was a total disaster in there, normally he would yell at Grif to clean it up. Sarge looks down. Although he would never admit it, he missed Grif, he missed yelling at him and ordering him around. “Simmons…” Sarge trailed off taking a step forward. “I know this is hard for you, but its been a month, you need to get out of this room.” 

Simmons looked up at his commanding officer. “If you are asking me to get over it, sir, I am sorry but that won't be happening.” Simmons states, his voice quivering. 

Sarge sighs. “That's not what I am saying, I know its hard-” he cut himself off, shaking his head, maybe he should send Donut in, he would be better at talking to Simmons about emotions then Sarge would. He looked at Simmons and walked out. 

He found Donut outside talking with Doc. He told him to go talk some sense into Simmons. Donut walked inside. He saw the door open to Simmons’ room and just walks right in. “Hiya Simmons.”

Simmons looks up at Donut. “Donut, get the fuck out.” He said flatly.

“You know, we are all sad about Grif,” He speaks slowly, Simmons flinches slightly when Donut says his name. “but we can’t let that take over our life, I mean we have to beat the blues, they have an extra right now, we need all the help we can get.” Donut sat on the bed next to Simmons. “I know thats it harder for you,” he gulped, placing his hand on Simmons’ shoulder. “Loving him and all, but you, you have to go on, you can’t live just staying in here, come on Simmons, even the blues miss you, and we can all help you get through it, its hard, I know, hardest for you, but, you, you have to…” he trailed. “Think about what Grif would want, if he saw you just sitting here weeping onto his things, he would laugh, calling you a cry baby and to get off of his bed. He would want you to be you, Simmons.” Donut had a sympathetic look on his face, 

He sat up looking at Donut. “Donut, don’t act like you understand how I feel,” he started to tear up, “don’t act like you know what Grif would think of what I am doing. It doesn’t even matter what he ‘would do’ because he is dead Donut, dead, gone. He can’t tell me to get off his bed, he can’t call me a cry baby, he is, gone. I let him die.” Simmons let the tears freely fall down his face. 

Simmons one second was sitting on the bed staring at Donut, tears rolling down his face, The next second, Donut’s arms were pulling him into a hug. He held him tightly. “No one blames you Simmons, It’s not your fault.” he held tightly onto Simmons. After a few moments, Simmons hugged back sobbing into Donut’s shoulder.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Up from the icy water a hand sprung up, landing on a large iceberg, pulling himself up, the orange colored soldier emerged from the water. He climbed up in the floating ice, pulling his helmet off, water flowing out of it. He gasped. How did he survive that? He looked around, far, in the distance, he could see the cliff, he hand drifted quite a bit. He saw tiny little dots at the top the cliff. It must be Simmons. Grif jumped yelling, He called out, for hours, even after he saw the dots leave he yelled out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Here is the second chapter, ahahah yeah I am sorry, I am such a jerk, but don't worry i have plans, terrible terrible plans!


	3. Dirty blues

Grif was glad that he kept secret stashes of food in his armor, or he would have died, floating on the giant iceberg he had been on. Many times had he attempted to climb the large cliff, once he had gotten closer to it. He couldn’t get even halfway up, so he wandered, the iceberg stayed close the cliff, the tide pushing that way. 

One day he found a shore, made of ice and snow, but it meant that Grif was closer to getting out of here, was closer to getting back to Valhalla, was closer to getting back to Simmons. Then a thought occurred to him. What if they aren’t on Valhalla anymore? What if he came all that way and found out they were nowhere to be found, that they were relocated again. He guessed that if that happened then he would deal with it when the time comes. 

Now he just had to figure out how to get up, and he needed to soon, he was going to run out of food soon, and he needed food, all he had left was three packages of oreos, and contrast to earlier belief, eating just oreos was not the kind of thing you would want to do, especially when you're in -20°. He had to keep his helmet on, only taking it off when he was going to eat. 

_________________________________________________________________________

Simmons stood outside of the base, his gun in hand. He just stood there, he didn’t understand why Sarge and Donut wanted him out so bad, he did the exact same thing that he was doing in the room, just with less stuff to remind him of Grif, yet, he thought of him just as much. Leaning up against the base wall, Simmons thought about all the times him and Grif had argued, how they always bickered. He shook his head, trying not to let tears well up in his eyes. 

Donut looked at Simmons from a distance. “He worries me.” He states looking at Doc. 

Doc sighed. “I would try to help him, but every time I go to talk to him he tells me that if I don’t go he’ll shoot me, and I’d like to keep the bullets out of me.” He rubbed Donut’s shoulder. 

“I just don’t like seeing my teammates in pain, and I do miss Grif as well.” He looked down. “Maybe if we bring the blues over, we can get him to do more.” Donut looks up smiling. 

Doc shook his head. “You don’t mean, trying to get them over here by picking a fight do you?” The smile on Donut’s face widened. “We need to at least tell Sarge, right?”

“No telling Sarge is the last thing that we would want to do, if Sarge believes what's going on, then the more that Simmons will.” Donut pulled his helmet on, and began to walk towards the blue base.

 

“Absolutely not.” Agent Washington says.

“Wash, come on you don’t understand, we barely got him to get out of their room, now he just stands outside the base, lifeless. Sometimes he shakes his head and mumbles to himself, but he isn’t himself, you gotta help him.” Donut begged.

Washington handed something to Tucker telling him to bring it inside. “Losing teammates is hard, I know, but we can’t waste time on trying to help him, he will get over it sometime, hell soon probably just give it time.” Washington’s monotonous voice didn’t show any sympathy.

Donut scoffed. “Pardon me Washington, but you obviously don’t know what you are talking about. You realize who you are talking to and who you are talking about, we are human, you know that. Simmons loved Grif, and he lost him, do you know what it is to love someone, then loose them? I know you talked about losing other freelancers friends or whatever, but did you love any of them?” 

Washington was about to talk but he stopped himself. He hadn’t really ever loved anyone, he had always just had a large group of friends. He sighed, calling Tucker out of the base. 

“But there is no red and blue.” Tucker said, looking at Wash as if he was crazy, him of all people should know that there really isn’t a war going on between reds and blues. 

Wash sighed. “I know, but, we are trying to help Simmons get out of his depression about Grif, by pretending we have Doc and Donut as hostages will make him act more like himself or something.” He spoke annoyed. 

Caboose ran up. “I’m in.” 

_____________________________________________________________________________

Grif sat down catching his breath, he had just climbed at least 100 feet, with a break on a small ledge. But it was still a lot to climb, especially when all you have is a knife to help you climb up ice. Now all he had to do is get back to the base that they were at, maybe his machine gun/knife would still be hanging there. 

He started walking to the bases. His stomach roared, he was starving, he finished the oreos the day before and he hasn’t eaten since. Hopefully they have food there. He began to near the area, then he was met with a gun to the face. 

“Halt, who the hell are you?” asked the soldier, pointed his gun at Grif.

“I’m Private Grif.” Grif moved the gun so that it wasn’t pointing at his face. “I am not attacking just looking for a few things then I will be on my way.” He said walking forward. 

The man made a surprised noise. “Oh uh,” he ran up to walk next to Grif. “What exactly are you looking for?” 

“Well, first off something to eat, I’ve eaten nothing but oreos for 3 weeks. also last time I was here, I left a machine gun/knife looking thing.” He looked at the other soldier. “I’d like that back.” 

“You’ll have to talk my commanding officer about that.” He said timidly. 

______________________________________________________________________________

“We have Donut and Doc as hostages, we want to negotiate.” Wash called out, Tucker had Donut, bound with his hands behind his back, Caboose had Doc in the same position.

“I KNEW WE COULDN'T TRUST THOSE DIRTY BLUES.” Sarge yelled out. He called Simmons to the top of the base, whispering to him. “We can either offer something for them, or we can fight for them.” Simmons was silent. “Fighting it is. Simmons, do me a favor and get my shot gun.” 

Something clicked. “Yes sir.” Simmons said, naturally, he headed down into the base to get the gun and some amo. He didn’t quite understand what was going on, but he knew that Grif wouldn't want him not to do anything. Actually Grif would probably want me to do nothing. And I would yell at him and do it anyway. So I will do it anyway, just because you’re gone Grif does not mean I will take your advise. Simmons Marched to the top of the base. I’ll do it because you wouldn’t want me to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried to add alittle comedy into it I guess??? But its kind of a sad story so It didn't really work out. But um the thing at the end, it is kind of confusing, its like emphasizing how he isn't stopping what they did just because he is gone, if that makes seance.


	4. We Aren't A Team

“What do you mean i can’t have it back?” Grif asked annoyed. He stood slouching in front of a man in black ODST armor. He had just ate several helpings of food, and if he could get back the knife gun then he could be on his way. 

The man stood up from his place in the chair. “I mean it’s in evidence and you can not have it back, what about that is not clear to you…. “ he trailed off. “what did you say your name was again?” 

“I didn’t.” Grif stated bluntly. 

The man grumbled. “You have already eaten half of our food, and cause many problems, can you just leave.” He sighed. 

“No I can’t, because,” Grif began the biggest lie of his entire life. “If I go back to base with out my Knife gun, my commanding officer will be pissed, and he isn’t one for giving warnings, I will be killed, it was one of the most expensive weapons we had.” He looked the man directly in the eye, setting his helmet on the table next to him. “I need it back.”

“Aren't you from one of the Red vs Blue bases?” The man asked scoffing.

“HA! I wouldn’t expect you to think any different, that is what we hope people would think after all.” He said smirking, turning around. “But no we are not just ‘Reds and Blues’.“ he laughed. “We actually work directly for UNSC, actually I could probably get you fired if I talk to some of my, hire up friends.” he said looking back at the man. “Exspecially if you don’t hand over my knife gun, You wouldn’t want that now would you, Daniel.” Grif had been talking to other soldiers before, and found out as much information out about their ‘commanding officer’.

He flipped around looking at Grif. “Wait, what, how do you…?” he stopped. “Alright, I’ll go get the knife for you.” He said storming off. 

As soon as Grif got his Knife gun back he walked outside and took one of their ships that were just laying around, he would be home, well the closest thing to home that he had, soon.  
______________________________________________________________________________

“TAKE THAT YOU DIRTY BLUES, GIVE US BACK OUR PRIVATE, and medic.” Sarge yelled firing his shotgun. The bullet glided by Wash’s head, about 3 inches away. 

“Remind me again, why are we doing this?” Tucker groaned, letting go of Donut to pull out his gun. 

“Because, the reds need our help.” Wash says monotonous. He shoots his gun, purposely missing Sarge by a whole foot. 

“You call that fighting!!” Sarge yelled, jumping off the base. 

“This is a weird way of helping.” Caboose yells.

Simmons started shooting, he tried to hit the blues, but he could feel something that made him, no matter where he aimed, miss. What if he killed one of them, if you asked him a few years back, he would celebrate, but he no longer wanted to kill the blues. If he did end up killing one of them, they would have to go through the same thing the reds were going through without Grif. He ceased fire. “Sarge, maybe we can talk it out this time, I don’t really, wanna, ya know, hurt them.”

“What in sam’s hell are you talking about Simmons? Have you forgotten they have Donut and Doc captive. Have they brain washed you?” Sarge shot again, at the blues, this time almost hitting Tucker’s foot. 

“You fuck!” Tucker yelled. 

“I know, but maybe we can get them back by talking, maybe they are just messing around, I mean think about what has been going on lately, does it really seem like a priority to them to capture our men?” Simmons prepared to be yelled at.

“You are either for or against them, red or blue, there is no purple.” Sarge said to Simmons.

“I’m purple!” Doc shouted from across the way. 

“We aren’t a team without Grif, sir. Nothing has been right since he… left.” Simmons gulped looking over at the blues. “I can promise you that if he were here this wouldn’t be happening, I can’t tell you how I know I just do.” He tried to keep his structure. “Blues, why did you take Donut and Doc?” 

Tucker stepped forward, seeing what was going on. “Because, shits too serious in this hellhole. It was my idea, I just wanted it to be like in blood gulch. Where nothing really mattered and we all sucked dick. I thought maybe if we took them captive it could be like back then, but fuck it, take them back, things have obviously changed to much.”

He pushed Donut forward, along with Doc. They walked over to the red side, looking back at the blues. Wash smiled and looked them over. “This was fun, but we better get back to,” he paused, “what we were doing before this.” Wash turns and walks away. 

______________________________________________________________________________

Almost to Valhalla. Man were they going to be surprised when they see Grif. He thought about it, honestly he feels like the only reaction would be Sarge yelling at him, or Simmons asking him if he just woke up from a long nap. He sighed, maybe Donut would have missed him? Yeah fucking right, thats not happening. 

The ship he was in started making a strange noise, Grif looked around wondering. The noise became louder, Grif put the ship on autopilot so he could look for the problem. Staring out the window, Grif say smoke, dark black smoke lingering from the back of the ship. “FUCK!” Grif yells. As if on que a red light starts blinking and a siren starts going off. “Fucking whore.” Grif looked at the planets surrounding him. He didn’t know what the problem was with the ship but if he could make it even just close to Valhalla it would be great. He was facing the right planet, he hit the gas as hard as he could, sending him flying. Then everything suddenly turned off the only light was from the bright star that warmed these planets. Down, down he went, hurtling. He couldn’t do anything about it, the power in the ship had turned off, and he doesn’t think it’ll be a very soft landing. 

He closed his eyes knowing that he would die for real this time, no getting out of it. “I love you Simmons.” he said out loud. as he hurtled towards the planet. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

“He took one of the ships sir.” The grey armored soldier told the black. 

“He can take whatever he pleases.” he man told his private.

“It was one of the ones in repair, sir.” He said looking down.

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Wash, look at this.” Tucker called Wash over, pointing at the computer. There was a large red dot moving very quickly down the screen. “What does this mean?”

“That means that a ship is coming near us.” Wash says confused. “but the only way it could be going that fast past the atmosphere is if it were…. crashing.” 

“How close is it to us?” Tucker asks. 

“About 600 kilometers south.” Wash walked to the other side of the room grabbing a paper.

“Isn’t that in the middle of the ocean?” questioned Tucker

“That means that whoever is crashing, might have a chance.”


	5. Im on a boat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRRRRY

This was the second time this month that Grif woke up, after thinking that he was going to die, covered in water. He looked around, he didn’t remember much from before he crashed, but at some point he guesses he took his suit off because its no where in sight, probably at the bottom of the ocean by now. He looked around, nothing as far as the eye can see. 

He began to swim, with his luck probably further away from the closest land. He swam till he could no longer swim, then he would take a break, then swim some more.   
_______________________________

“I don’t know how Lopez would feel about making a boat for the opposite team, but I sure will ask!” Donut said talking to Tucker and Caboose, at blue base. He walked over to Red base seeing Lopez outside, “Hey Lopez, can I talk to you over here for a sec?” 

“¿Por qué iba yo a ir contigo?”(Why would I go with you?) He said flatly. 

“Great! Thanks for asking, but I need to talk to you about something important.” He jerked his head in the direction of the blue base.

"¿Qué? Yo no pido eso.” (What? I didn’t ask that.) Lopez watched Donut start to walk towards the blue base.

“Lopez I need to talk to you in private.” He jerked his head towards the blue base.

“¿Por qué habría que seguir a la base de la nada?” (Why would I follow you to the blue's base?) Lopez sighed and followed Donut.

 

“That’s great! Thanks Lopez! Just tell Agent Washington as soon as you’re done.” Donut smiled and started walking away.

“Yo ni siquiera estoy de acuerdo con este.” (I didn't even agree to this) Lopez says walking off to go find equipment to make a boat.

 

Simmons pulled off his helmet, dropping it on the floor as he walked into their bedroom. He was exhausted, he hadn’t been able to hardly sleep since … what happened. He slugged across the room to their bunk beds, he dropped onto Grif’s bottom bunk. He closed his eyes for a moment and immediately passed out.

 

He opened his eyes and found himself on Sidewinder, the snow surrounding him. He walked around soon finding himself at the cliff, the imprint where Grif had slid off was still there. He heard Grif’s screams for him, he felt Grif’s grip on his hands. He walked over to the edge and looked, he watched Grif fall, slipping off the knife gun, falling, so far down. He yelled out, then before thinking he ran and jumped after him, falling after him. He plunged into the water.

His eyes swung open and looked up at the metal bars holding up the top bunk. He got up and walked out of the room, it was pitch black outside, one thing that was nice about this place is it actually had a night. Everyone was asleep right now, he walked out of the base without his armor on, just in maroon pants and a grey t-shirt. He wandered around, finding himself on the beach by the blue base, his feet in the water. He looked out at the moon reflecting on the water. He closed his eyes imagining Grif sitting next to him. He went to lean on him falling over on the cold ground. He couldn’t lean on Grif, he couldn’t. He curled up in a ball right there and cried himself to sleep. 

 

“Uhm Mr. Simmons?” Caboose poked at Simmons with a stick. “Did you by any chance kidnap Washington and Tucker?”

Simmons rolled over looking up at Caboose. “What why would I kidnap-” he got cut off

“Well because we took your friends yesterday and they are my friends, ya know. It makes sense.” Caboose swayed back and forth.

Simmons stood up. “No I didnt Caboose I have no idea where they are.” He said starting to slug off to his own base. 

“Uh Private Simmons?” Caboose walked over to him. Simmons really didnt want to deal with Caboose’s antics at the moment, he just turned to him sighing. “Im sorry about Private Griff.” He lightly pat Simmons’ back before running off yelling “IM A PRETTY PENGUIN AND I LIKE CHEESE.” 

Simmons looked down and then up as Caboose ran off. “I’m sorry too.” He walked back towards the base.

__________________________________________________________________________

“How far away from where the plane crashed are we?” Tucker asked Wash. 

“Not far, just keep going this way.” Washington sat down. He hoped if there were any survivors that they would be quick enough. He hoped that they could find them, and soon, they might not have enough time. 

\--

Sarge was sitting at the table in red base mapping out plans for an attack on the blues. Simmons walked in and Sarge shot up. “Simmons! Did the blues capture you, did they torture you?”

Simmons shook his head. “I just fell asleep outside sir.” he said walking back to the room. Sarge sat back down looking worried at Simmons. 

As he walked into the room, he shut the door and locked it, looking around the room. It smelled like him in here. A terrible horrible awful smell, that Simmons could not get enough of. He laid back down on Grif’s bed, putting his arm under the pillow, he felt something, he pulled it out. It was a picture, of Him and Grif in blood gulch. Why did he have this picture under his pillow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please a comment telling me how you feel about my story, thanks :)


	6. Dexter, please, is that you?

Simmons sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the picture, he remember when they took this. He had found his old camera and insisted that they all took pictures together. He thought that he had lost the one that him and Grif had taken, the truth was that Grif had just taken it. He stood up, shoving the picture into his back pocket. Walking into the storage of the base, he picked up an apple then looked over to a box filled with oreos and other junk foods. He set the apple down walking over to the box, sprawled on the side it said ‘This belongs to Grif ‘. He pulled out an oreo, stuffing it in his face. Grif would have killed him if he saw Simmons eating his food. 

“Simmons?” Doc stood at the door. Simmons swung around looking at Donut. He didn’t say anything, he just went to push past Doc. “Simmons you should really eat more than just that-”

“Shut up Doc.” 

“No. Simmons. I am worried about you, I know you miss Grif, I do to, we all do, but you still need to take care of yourself, you still need to keep yourself alive. All you have been eating is his junk food, and when was the last time you took a shower? You use to take at least one a day. Simmons you need to take care of yourself because, we care about you and I know, I know you arent in a good place right now but Simmons. Your well-being reeally matters.” He pulled Simmons back making him look at him. “Grif is gone, and laying around weeping wont fix anything. I’m not saying you cant mourn his death. But you have to accept he is gone and-”

“AND? AND what? And get over it, and forget about it and go about my day as normal, Im sorry DuFresne but its not that easy. Its not that easy. ITS NOT EASY WHEN I COULD HAVE SAVED HIM. ITS MY FAULT THAT HES DEAD DONUT, IF if i was just stronger, I could have saved him.” Simmons slammed his fist on the wall. “I COULD HAVE SAVED HIM, but i didn’t.” he was quiet for a long time. “I killed him.” 

“Simmons there is a big difference between not saving and killing, You couldn’t save him, none of us could. If you need someone to talk to I can help, as much as I can, but maybe you just need some time to yourself, so Donut and I are going to go over to the blue’s base. Sarge is off, doing whatever Sarge does, just take care.” He nodded at Simmons and walked out.

__________________________________________________

“Uh Wash, you might want to take a look at this.” Tucker said sitting in the driver's seat of the boat. Wash walked over and stood by Tucker. The fuel gage was empty. 

“WE ART OUT OF GAS?” Wash yelled. “How did you not think about bringing extra gas?” He questioned Tucker, tapping his foot on the ground annoyed with Tucker. “I even asked if we had enough and you said we did.”

“You asked me if we had enough gas?” Tucker thought, thinking back to when they were getting ready. “Nope not ringing a bell. And hey why didnt you get extra gas?” He looked angrily at Wash. 

“Im sorry I was busy getting other essentials, like food, water, weapons.” Wash walked to the back of the boat. “Do you at least know how far away from the bases we are?” He asked, hoping for too much. 

“I thought that you were keeping track of where we were.” Tucker said slowly, preparing himself to be yelled at. 

“You thought I WAS! Tucker I even gave you a list of things that you were suppose to do in case you forget.” Wash grabbed his head. 

___________________________________________________________________________

Simmons was on top of the base, sitting. Thinking about what Doc had said, thinking about Grif. He fell back laying out on the base. His head hurt, his eyes burned, his chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself. His mind felt as if it had been torn apart. He knew he needed to take care of himself, and he wanted to, but he just couldn’t. He WANTED to get up and he wanted to move on, he wanted to fight the blues, but he couldn’t, what use to be fun wasn’t fun anymore, what use to engross him was unstimulating now, everything that once was, is gone now. He took it all with him. Grif took everything with him. Or maybe was it Grif that made all those things so entertaining to do. Like sitting up here, sitting up here would be so much more compelling if Grif were with him, but nope he was just laying up here on his back in normal clothes holding a picture to his chest and weeping. He was pathetic. He was weeping over someone who probably thought that he found him intolerable. He wished he could just say one last thing to Grif. He turned on his side. He would say He didn’t hate him, infact he loved him. he was such an elementary boy, acting like he hated his crush. He wiped the tears from his face. Simmons you’re an idiot, he hated you anyway. Simmons you need to get over it. He told himself. Simmons he isn’t worth crying over. Richard he was only ever a jerk to you. Simmons you don’t need him. Simmons he treated you badly. Simmons, but you treated him badly back. Simmons this is your fault. Simmons, maybe you should join him. Simmons you killed him. Simmons. Simmons Simmons. 

“Simmons?”

Simmons shot up hearing a voice, not not just any voice, a voice that was impossible that he could be hearing, a voice that he must be imagining, a voice that he hadn’t heard in over two months. A voice that belonged to Dexter Grif. Simmons wanted to yell back but he couldn’t find his voice.

“Simmons?”

It rang out again and Simmons rushed down into the base, stumbling over himself. He tried to speak but nothing came out. He wanted to yell out to Grif, but he knew that this wasnt real that this had to be a dream. He heard it again. And again, he ran, stumbled, sped outside the base. Once outside, Simmons ran around trying to find the source of this voice. 

Then he heard something painful. Something that broke his already shattered heart. He cried for help, the same cry from Sidewinder. He managed to yelp out calling after the man he killed. “Grif!” He tried yelling louder. “Grif, is that you?” he ran around frantically not knowing what way to go, and it beginning to get dark wasn’t helping. He stopped to catch his breath and heard footsteps approaching. He looked up and standing in front of him was a shape, a chubby long dark brown haired shape. “Grif?” Simmons said with tears in his eyes.

Grif stopped in place. “You miss me?” he asked cockly. Inside he was exploding, getting to see Simmons again. 

Simmons ran over to Grif and hugged him as tight as he could, for as long as he could he never wanted to let go. He knew this was a dream but it was his first good dream since it happened. 

“Im guessing that means yes.” He hugged back tightly.

“Grif, I love you.” Simmons spat out and shoved his face onto Grif’s, not wanting to spend another second without telling him. 

____________________________________________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont know if I am going to make this the last chapter or not, I will probably have one more, but it might take alittle for me to write it <3


End file.
